Human Scavenger

In a family of so many brothers, you hadthe misfortune to be born with two Xchromosomes—one brush stroke awayfrom Y. Your father wept when he sawthat your mother’s labor had produced onlya piece to be broken, like the tarsals in yourfoot. Your spirit was weak. It could not bereshaped to fit the world that likened youto cowbirds. Some vengeful god must havekilled the boy in your mother’s womband planted you there instead. Now youanswer for some past life. You must countyourself lucky you were not turned face downin a plate of ash at birth, wet skin coatedin death like the phoenix. You could neverbe a phoenix; cowbirds aren’t even scrub jays.Instead, you and your six sisters were givento someone—anyone who would takeeven one of you. You were spread out acrossthe country, each of you, a piece of somethingthat would never come together. You would neverfind each other. You would never find yourself.

About The Author

Devin Prasatek is a junior writing major at Grand Valley State University. Her writing centers around her interest in analyzing the concept of identity and how it shapes the world around us. Her main focus in writing has always been poetry, and she hopes to compose many more successful pieces in the future.